


thermoregulation

by scribe-tuesday (Leofuller)



Series: Back Up There [23]
Category: Original Work, Sports Fiction (not RPF)
Genre: Gen, Goalie Nesting (Hockey RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leofuller/pseuds/scribe-tuesday
Summary: It is still not fully understood what causes the netminder's oestradiol levels to rise rapidly, however most organisations will have strategies in place to cope with the unscheduled absence of both the netminder and any teammates who may have been selected due to proximity or strength of relationship during the subsequent 24-72 hour "nesting window".Of course, articles like that get written about the full time pro leagues. There was one study into nesting in recreational leagues - in Canada again, surprise surprise - but nobody who writes for academic journals has spared much thought for the semi-pro leagues who don't have the time or budget to develop official strategies.Sometimes you just have to do the best that you can with the resources that you've got at the time.
Series: Back Up There [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/272113
Comments: 35
Kudos: 59





	1. Coop

**Author's Note:**

> Like Bark Up There, this one is not part of the main canon...

**SOS!!**

The message comes through on the group chat first thing in the morning. Greg’s not normally one for melodrama before 8am, so Dai’s considering answering (not always smart to be the first) when Trent responds.

**What’s up?**

That’s the pressure off Dai, then. Official Grown Up Trent Kelly is on the scene.

**Coop’s nesting.**

Dai sighs and hauls himself out of bed. Goalies.

Chaz is already there when Dai wanders into the locker room. It’s always weird being here in the morning, like they’re breaking some kind of rule.

“Oh, good.” Chaz is pleased to see him, at least. “You know what you’re doing.”

Yeah, because Dai’s baby brother is a goalie, and if you can handle a pubescent goalie you can cope with a routine Nest.

Dai’s learnt all the tricks. How to switch out a teammate (from trading off cuddle duties with Ifan). How to identify the kind of sucker who will do more time than they need to in the nest (...Owen). When you can argue with a nesting goalie, and when you can’t. (Ifan’s got a scar that he still uses now to guilt Gethin into letting him be the race car in the annual Evans Family Christmas Monopoly Marathon.)

Chaz is loading a duffle bag with the sort of essentials that probably aren’t in stock at Greg, Sam and Coop’s place even if they should be, like sports drinks and energy bars, so Dai goes in search of Snowy Jr.

Actual Snowy is not suitable for nesting goalies, as they discovered a couple of years back when Lucas went practically feral at the sight of him. Dan, who plays Snowy, wouldn’t go near him for weeks afterwards.

Instead they have Snowy Jr, a four foot high stuffed bear which is only still white because Tom occasionally throws him in the wash with their jerseys. Snowy Jr lives in the locker room, gets passed around on good days and bad days, and occasionally accidentally appears in the background of photos on social media.

Snowy Jr has also absorbed his share of locker room, uh,  _ atmosphere _ between washes, and since their training jerseys are already laundry-fresh after yesterday, he’s the ideal companion for Coop for the next couple of days.

The  _ real  _ ideal companion for a nesting goalie is actually a close friend, family member or teammate, but since Coop’s started nesting on a game day he’s a bit limited for options. They’ve still got to get Greg and Sam out of there, and hope that between them all they can keep Coop balanced until after tomorrow’s game.

“Morning, guys.” Trent’s far too cheerful in the mornings, especially considering that he’s not known for being cheerful in general. “Thanks for doing this.”

There isn’t a specific list of duties associated with the captaincy or assistant captaincy of a hockey team, but if somebody wrote them out then  _ supporting teammates in hockey-related hormonal episodes _ would have to be on there.

That doesn’t explain why Adzy is trailing behind Trent like a sulky teenager.

“Adzy.” Chaz nods to him. “Ready?”

Apparently Chaz knows what’s going on, then.

Adzy nods, looking very much like he’s  _ not _ ready for whatever he’s doing.

“Um.” He says. “I guess?” He sidles over to Dai, and Dai finds himself automatically handing over Snowy Jr just like he would to one of his nephews.

Adzy’s 24.

Not that you can tell from the way he wraps his arms around Snowy Jr. Kid’s nervous about something.

Dai’s an idiot.

It’s actually kind of obvious.

Adzy’s not fit to play this weekend, tweaked his shoulder during their last game. He’s okay, but he’s been told to rest it for a few more days. Normally that means standing by the bench in his suit and coat, cheering the boys on, but clearly now he’s going to be resting it with Coop.

Based on the body language, he’s never been left alone with a nesting goalie before.

“You’ll be right, _bach.”_ Trent’s on the phone and Chaz is ferreting around in a cupboard, so it’s up to Dai to reassure Adzy. “It’s just Coop.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when a guy nests, yeah?”

Dai shakes his head. What do they teach these kids in Canada? “It’s still Coop. He just needs a _cwtch.”_

“A what?”

_“Cwtch, bach.”_ Dai demonstrates. “A cuddle.”

Adzy splutters and fights him off, because kids these days have no manners.

You can tell the minute you step through the front door that there’s a goalie nesting in this house. Well, you can if you’re an experienced kind of person. Dai can tell.

“Hi.” Greg looks rough. “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Dai follows him into the house. Chaz has already disappeared towards the kitchen, and Trent and Adzy are just parking up. “When did it start?” 

“Not sure” Greg cracks a yawn. “He might have been a bit weird yesterday, in hindsight, but he climbed into my bed at three o’clock this morning and it was definitely happening by then.”

That would explain why he looks like crap. Nesting goalies tend to run hot and Greg’s had his own personal space heater for most of the night whether he wanted it or not.

“You got out, though?”

Greg yawns again. “Sam’s in there now.”

Ah, the old switch-off. Dai and Ifan had it down to a science. Owen was always a bit of a soft touch for Gethin when he got clingy.

“We’ve brought supplies.” Dai waves vaguely in the direction of where he last saw Chaz. “Hydration and all that.”

“Awesome.”

“And we’ve brought reinforcements.” Dai gestures to where Adzy is stumbling up the path with Snowy Jr under one arm.

“Cool.” Greg brightens up as he realises - faster than Dai, although Dai doesn’t need to admit that - why Adzy is here. “So, Coop’s still in my bed, with Sam, but I’m hoping we can persuade him to nest in his own room instead.”

“We need bait.” Dai agrees. “You want to show Adzy where he needs to go?”

Greg happily leads Adzy upstairs, and Dai can hear him showing Adzy the bathroom on the way which is probably a good idea.

Chaz ambles past a minute later with an armful of bottles and snacks, and then Trent and Dai brave the nest.

“Coop?” Trent knocks on the doorframe to what must be Greg’s room. There are at least two duvets on the bed, and Sam’s upper body emerges from the pile.

“Oh thank god.” He wriggles, as if he’s trying to escape from something, and then sighs and stops moving. “Hey, Coop, look who’s here!”

There’s a low growl from the heap of bedding, and Sam manages to free an arm and thump it down on top of the covers. He can’t possibly do any damage through that much padding.

“Stop that! It’s just Trent and Dai!”

There’s a pause, and Coop’s head appears. His hair is ridiculous and Dai does not laugh at him.

“Hi.” Dai waves. Coop does not wave back but he does sort of smile.

“Hi, Matt, how are you doing?” Trent starts talking like Coop’s going to actually answer him. 

“Adzy’s come to hang out with you.” Dai tells Coop, glancing down the hallway and gesturing for Adzy to join them.

Adzy’s reluctance is palpable.

“See?” Dai continues, because clearly he’s the only person here who has any idea how to talk to a nesting goalie. “Adzy’s here.”

Adzy hangs back in the doorway, which is for the best because if Coop gets hold of him now the nesting will be in Greg’s room and nobody will be able to do anything about it.

“You’re okay to look after Adzy today, _bach?_ He can’t play because of his shoulder.”

Coop sits up, and Sam slides very slowly towards the edge of the mattress. Dai’s confident that Coop’s caretaking instincts will make Adzy an appealing nest partner.

Adzy cautiously waggles Snowy Jr at Coop, and then the heap of bedding resolves itself into two people. Coop ambles towards them, trailing both duvets behind him, and Sam’s suddenly found himself cold and abandoned.

He’s not always the sharpest blade in the packet, but he’s been here before and so he doesn’t move or make a sound as any distress might pull Coop’s attention back to him when he’s so close to escaping.

Coop pauses when he gets to Dai, and then his face splits into a grin and he envelops Dai in a hug.

Uh oh.

It’s a very warm hug. Coop’s hugs are warm on a normal day, but when you add in the nesting temperature spike and the two duvets it’s toasty.

Adzy makes the little grunting noise that normally precedes him vaulting over the boards and proving a point by putting the puck in the net.

“Coop.” He starts backing away as soon as he’s got Coop’s attention. “This one’s your room, yeah?” He’s made it to Coop’s bedroom doorway. “Do you mind if I take a nap? My shoulder’s kind of sore…”

Coop makes a hurt noise, like he thinks he’s let somebody down, and abandons Dai to trail after Adzy.

That was close. Chaz ducks out of Coop’s room a second later, having escaped Coop’s attention now that he’s worrying about Adzy, and carefully pulls the door halfway closed - not enough to make Adzy feel trapped, but enough that Coop hopefully won’t get distracted by the rest of them.

“Right.” Trent says, like everything’s all sorted now and their backup goalie isn’t a hormonal minefield for the next 48 hours or so. “Jamie’s going to dress for the games this weekend and back up Lucas. Chaz is going to stay here until he needs to come to the rink for the game, and Adzy will be able to handle it from there. You two,” he points to Sam, who’s emerged from Greg’s bedroom, and Greg, who was apparently hiding in the bathroom, “got somewhere to go?”

Sam just blinks at him. Greg looks a bit forlorn.

“You can nap at my place if you want.” Dai offers. They probably shouldn’t stay here, in case Coop decides that his flatmates are a better nesting option than Adzy, and they both need some uninterrupted, normal-temperature sleep. Somebody’s going to have to come back overnight and relieve Adzy, but for now Sam and Greg can take a break.

“Thanks Dai.” Trent answers for them, and Sam disappears into his bedroom, presumably to throw some stuff in a bag.

Greg’s still looking at Coop’s door. 

“Greg?” Dai prompts. “Coming back to mine?”

Greg sighs, and his shoulders slump. “Coop’s stolen my duvet.”


	2. Karl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By popular request: Karl's nest.
> 
> In which Jack reprises his role as the Designated Karl Handler

“Has somebody moved the jersey bag?” Ant comes into the locker room and looks around him as if the large bright blue sack he uses to collect up their jerseys after games might be sitting there unnoticed. “It definitely came off the bus last night because I remember dumping it by the washing machine ready to wash tonight.”

Everybody’s looking around now in case they’ve been sitting on top of a bag containing a whole team’s worth of dirty jerseys without realising.

“Hey, any of you guys feel like doing some training tonight?” Steve sticks his head around the door to find out why nobody’s on the ice yet, doing a quick head-count of the mostly-dressed guys. “Why don’t we have any goalies?”

That is odd. Karl’s always early, although Jack-

“Sorry, sorry, they’ve got roadworks up by my house and the phasing has gone on the traffic lights and I got stuck there for like twenty minutes and-” Jack stumbles into the room with his bag and then pauses as he gets to his stall. “Where’s Karl?”

“Not here yet.” Westy tells him. “Maybe he got stuck in traffic too?”

Jack shakes his head. “But his car’s here, I parked next to him.”

There’s a long pause while people connect the dots, and then there’s a burst of noise.

“Okay, okay, settle down!” Steve raises his voice to be heard over the clamour. “Nobody needs to panic!”

“Why are we panicking?” Thunder asks - not trying to calm anybody down, he genuinely doesn’t know the reason.

“Karl’s probably nesting.” Ben explains. “Since he’s missing and so are our jerseys.”

“Where is he though?”

Westy sighs. “That’s the million dollar question. He’ll have picked himself a spot somewhere.”

“Do we look for him?” Thunder’s clearly unsure of the process.

“You don’t.” Steve says. “The last thing we need is everybody getting involved. Everyone who's ready, get out on the ice.”

The swell of noise returns as everybody hurries to do as they’re told.

“He did it just after an away game once,” Ben tells Thunder as they’re leaving the room. “Holed up in one of the luggage compartments underneath the bus, took us forever to get him out.”

Within ten minutes, most of the guys are out on the ice with the assistant coach, where it’s brightly lit and nobody can sneak up on them.

Steve, Westy, Jack, Čeněk and Ant hold a brief meeting in the nearly-empty room and then split up to look for Karl.

They have a loose plan about what to do this evening, what to do overnight and tomorrow - it’s not the first time that Karl’s nested at the rink and it won’t be the last - but first they have to find him.

He likes small spaces, so Jack checks the cupboards where the ice dancers store all their crap, they’re always full of boxes and bits of scenery, lots of hidden corners. Karl’s not there. He’s not in the shop stockroom, and he’s not - thank god - in the kitchen stores. He did that once a couple of years ago, it was really really awkward.

“Jack? Jack!”

Jack hurries out of the kitchen to see what the news is.

“Westy’s found him,” Ant says. “He’s in the penguin cupboard.”

Jack groans. He’s not a fan of the penguin cupboard.

The penguin balance aids for small children - and the polar bears for slightly bigger kids - aren’t generally around during hockey training or games. They’re stored in a small room next to skate hire, and Jack has occasionally found the door left slightly open when he’s passed it on his way to the toilets. The penguins and polar bears face the door in rows, their blank eyes staring from the darkness of the cupboard, and…

Look, they’re creepy, okay?

The door to the penguin cupboard is half open, and the ranks of penguins and bears have been disturbed to make a space towards the back of the room. There’s a long rattling hiss from the darkness, and Westy and Čeněk edge backwards, leaving Jack exposed towards the front of the group.

Jack sighs and pulls the door as far open as it will go, dragging a polar bear over to prop it in place.

“Don’t you hiss at me.”

There’s a grumble from the back of the room, and Jack steps forwards reluctantly. “Dude, it’s just me. And Westy and Čeněk.” His eyes are adjusting to the gloom in the cupboard, and he can make out Karl sitting on… 

Jack squints. It looks like Karl’s piled up his kit bag and the bag with the team’s dirty jerseys into some kind of makeshift seat. 

Karl shifts sideways, clearly making space for Jack. Jack sighs again and picks his way past the penguins to sit next to him.

“You know we’re not staying here, right?”

Karl grumbles again.

Non-verbal, great. At least he’s responding to English and Čeněk probably won’t be needed.

“Karl, it’s cold in here. And kind of creepy. And it smells weird.” 

Karl huffs at him, but that’s progress. Jack managed to get him out from underneath the bus that time, he can persuade him to leave this cupboard.

“Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable, huh? Get some stuff together? Maybe some snacks?”

Karl huffs at him again, but he doesn’t try to stop Jack from standing up, and when Jack offers him a hand he takes it and lets Jack pull him to his feet.

“I’ve got this.” Jack picks up the bag of jerseys with his free hand and nods to Karl’s kit bag. “You bring that one.”

Karl does as he’s told, which shows more than anything that he’s not himself right now.

Steve’s going to clear out of his office for a couple of days, if they can persuade Karl to relocate. There’s a heater in there, and working lights, and although the couch is older than anybody on the team the cushion are comfortable if you pile them on the floor. There’s not a lot of space in there, the room stuffed with the desk and filing cabinets, the couch and a migrating heap of broken kit, but Karl likes cramped spaces when he’s nesting so it’s perfect.

Or it will be, if they can get him in there without him getting distracted by other nesting sites. 

Karl perks up when he hears the rest of the guys out on the ice, and Jack has to tighten his grip on Karl’s hand and speed up a little to keep him moving and stop him from heading for the pad instead. If he gets near a net they’ll lose him, plus he’s not dressed for the ice and if he gets damp it’ll be a nightmare trying to persuade him to get changed.

Ant’s already thrown some spare training jerseys onto the couch, and Jack’s kit bag has been moved into the office. Karl’s attention fixes onto the office, and he moves ahead of Jack, focused on his destination and giving Jack the opportunity to drop the bag of dirty jerseys so that Ant can whisk them away to be washed and dried on schedule for their next game. 

Karl grumbles at him when he realised that Jack’s empty handed, and turns towards the door with the obvious intention of going to track down the jerseys.

“Hi Karl!” Ant pops up in his path, holding a bundle of towels. “Got you these!” He shoves them at Karl, who takes them automatically, and escapes.

Karl brings the towels into the office.

Jack recognises them.

Not these specific towels, necessarily, although obviously he must have seen them used at games and training a million times. But towels like these, towels that have been hastily passed around the team when they’ve been skating sprints, towels that are damp with sweat and which are objectively disgusting but are also amazing when you’re nesting.

They made some for Jack last time. He kept one when he gave them back, even though it’s sort of gross, and he was a lot more upset than he really should have been when Meggie found it under the bed and threw it in the wash.

That one was kind of hard to explain.

These towels are for Karl, though, and he’s-

“Oh, dude, let me give you a hand.”

Karl’s unzipped his hoodie just enough to stuff the towels into it so he can free up his hands to drag the cushions off the couch. Jack knows better than to try and take the towels, but he can help to pile the seat pads onto the floor following Karl’s grunted directions, and he can push the kit bags into the right places to make the nest feel more secure.

Karl takes over once the basic structure is in place, picking the best spots to pad out, and Jack takes a second to rip open the plastic on the case of Gatorade that’s been left on the desk.

“We’ll get you some snacks in.” Steve appears in the doorway. “And maybe order a pizza if you want.”

Jack flashes him a thumbs up. Karl’s stopped fussing with the towels and is giving Steve a considering look.

“You doing okay?” Steve asks him. “Do you want my spare fleece?” He takes it down from the hook behind the door without waiting for an answer, checking the pockets quickly before tossing it to Karl who catches it one-handed and finds a space for it in the nest.

“Not quite there yet?” Steve surveys the nest from the doorway. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Jack considers the temperature in the room and debates taking his hoodie off. If he does, it’s going to disappear into the fabric of the nest and he won’t get it back until at least Wednesday, but then again, once the nest is built he’s going to be plenty warm enough.

Karl’s making sad noises now as he shuffles the parts of the nest around, searching for the optimal combination of what are clearly insufficient materials.

Jack doesn’t remember all the details of his last nest, he never does, but he does know that Karl was there a lot, not in the nest but checking up on him. Jack thinks he remembers a steady supply of little spiced biscuits which he can’t prove that Karl made himself.

He takes his hoodie off and offers it to Karl. 

_ “Přikrývka?” _

Jack doesn’t understand the word, but Čeněk’s arms are full and it’s very likely that whatever he said was to offer the blanket he’s holding to Karl. He’s not stupid enough to come into a nesting area with a blanket that he _ didn’t _intend to offer up.

Karl’s on his knees in the middle of the nest, paused part way through whatever adjustment he’s making and staring at Čeněk suspiciously. Jack steps forwards.

“Can I?” He slowly takes the blanket from Čeněk, both of them watching Karl more than they are each other, until the blanket is entirely in Jack’s possession. “Thank you.”

The blanket is cold to the touch, like Čeněk keeps it in his car, and there’s the faintest smell of hockey about it as if his kit bag is regularly dumped on top of it.

It inspires excited clicking noises when Jack brings it close enough for Karl to get hold of, and Čeněk leaves with a smile on his face.

Training must have finished early, as the guys are popping in, most of them smelling like they plan to shower at home tonight, dropping off their extra bits of clothing and making appropriate admiring noises at the growing nest. Jack knows that they don’t appreciate it properly, but it’s the thought that counts.

Ant brings in the training jerseys, unwashed, and that’s enough to finally make Karl happy with his nest. He settles in and makes space for Jack.

“I need to go to the loo first.” Jack tells him, not particularly hopeful that Karl will understand. “Give me five minutes, yeah?”

Karl makes a distressed noise as Jack heads for the door.

“I’m coming back! Seriously, I just have to-”

“Okay?” Steve’s come back to check on them.

“Loo break.” Jack explains, then turns so Karl can see what he’s doing. “Look, I’m coming back. See, Steve’s got my keys.” He hands them over as he speaks. “So I have to come back. And anyway, Steve’s going to order us pizza!”

Steve sighs, even though the pizza was his idea in the first place. “What do you want?”

“Pepperoni.”

“And Karl?”

“Get us a big one and we’ll split it.” Karl’s not going to answer the question, and it’s not like Jack doesn’t know his preferences. “Thanks!”

And then he books it to the toilets while Steve calls in the order.

Luckily the trick with his keys worked, and Karl’s still in the nest when Jack gets back. It was cold out in the hallway, and Jack’s happy to climb into the nest and let Karl organise him into the right place. 

Steve sticks around for a bit, chats to them both (although Jack’s the only one paying attention) about being excused from training until Thursday, and about who’s coming in tomorrow so that Jack can do things like shower and go to work, and then the pizza turns up.

“Okay then, lads. Have a good night. Security know that you’re here and they’ll make sure that the rec guys and the early morning figure skaters leave you alone.” He drops Jack’s keys on the desk, next to the phone charger that somebody left for them and the multi-pack of Kit Kats that Ant had acquired from the cafe. He pauses by the door, hand hovering by the light switch. “Light on or off?”

Karl doesn’t have an opinion, so Jack answers for them. “Off, please.” He might not be able to get out of the nest to turn it off later. There’s always light from the window, the lights in the car park never seem to go off, and that’s enough to eat pizza by but not so bright that he won’t sleep.

The room goes dark.

“Thanks Steve.”

“Thanks for looking after him, Jack.”

“Not a problem.” 100%. It’s never a problem. Inconvenient, sometimes, but never a problem.

The door closes behind Steve, and although Karl stopped reacting to anything they were saying about half an hour ago, he grabs Jack’s hand and squeezes it before turning his attention to the pizza.

“You’re welcome.”

After all, Karl would do the same for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this got kind of soft


	3. Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s the lights,” Dingo says, like that makes sense. “He’s a time bomb from, like, mid November onwards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for Puckdrop.

“Hi.” The door swings shut behind Jacob, sealing out the early December rain. He makes it almost all the way across the foyer before he realises that Ryan hasn’t responded.

“Good evening, Ryan.”

Ryan continues to stare at the Christmas tree, apparently mesmerised by the slow fade pattern on the lights.

Jacob shrugs, shifts his bag more firmly onto his shoulder and heads for the locker room.

_ Goalies. _

“Have I upset Ryan?” Ricky’s the best person to check with - he’ll know, and he won’t be polite and pretend that nothing’s wrong if something is.

“Don’t think so.” Ricky pulls off his hoodie. “Why?”

“He just totally blanked me, even when I said hi a second time. Just kept staring at Christmas tree.”

Ricky puts his hoodie back on, like this information changes his whole plan for the evening.

“What?” Jacob’s confused. Ricky goes straight over to where Dan’s just finished writing the evening’s training plan on the whiteboard. He can’t hear what Ricky says, but Dan looks around and then waves Tony and Dingo into their little huddle.

Tony and Dingo leave the room a minute later.

Jacob shrugs and goes back to his bag.

“Don’t get changed yet.” Ricky materialises at his elbow, making Jacob jump. “Hang on for Dingo.”

What the fuck? Ryan was a bit rude, but not majorly so, and this is all a bit cloak-and-dagger. 

Dingo comes back pretty quickly, with a grin on his face. He nods at Dan, still waiting by the whiteboard, and Dan promptly wipes away the evening’s plans. There’s a ripple of interest from the guys.

“Right.” Dan says. “Stop getting changed, get dressed again. We’re not getting on the ice tonight.”

He turns back to the whiteboard and writes _ Nest Building! _ in big red letters, diagonally across the whole space.

There’s a scattered cheer from the guys, and the noise level rockets.

Jacob turns to Ricky. “What the fuck?”

“Ryan’s about to nest.”

Jacob stares at him. He’s been around nesting goalies before, it’s not a whole-team activity.

Ricky states at him. “So we have to get ready? Like last year-” He cuts himself off abruptly, as if he’s just remembered that everybody hated Jacob last year. “You haven’t seen Ryan nest before.”

Jacob shakes his head slowly.

“Dingo!”

Dingo pauses, halfway back into his clothes.

“Roly’s first nest.” Ricky explains.

“I’ve seen goalies nest before…”

“You haven’t seen _ Ryan _nest before.” Ricky tells him. “It’s different.”

“Yeah.” Dingo yanks his sweatshirt over his head and fights with the sleeves. “I forgot you weren’t there - he went off in the shopping centre last year and Liz had to call us. It wasn’t a training night.”

“In the shopping centre?” Jacob’s never known a goalie start nesting in a non-hockey environment before.

“It’s the lights,” Dingo says, like that makes sense. “He’s a time bomb from, like, mid November onwards.”

“Come on.” Ricky heads for the door, not looking to see if Jacob’s following. “We’re on the clock.”

The guys who’d already been in their normal clothes when Dan made the announcement are already clustered in the corridor which leads down to the stock room for the skate shop. Zach’s holding a large cardboard box.

“There’s another door that comes straight in from the shop,” Oli’s telling Mike. “So if this one’s blocked off for a few days it’s not the end of the world.

“Fuck’s sake, guys.” Jamie arrives with another box. “What the hell are you doing?”

Tommo and Mitch both freeze, with matching guilty expressions. Mitch starts to slide down from Tommo’s back, and Tommy tightens his grip on Mitch’s legs to stop him from falling.

“First off, I’ve got a van outside with all the ladders we could need.” Jamie puts his box down. “And secondly, Dom’s probably tall enough to reach anyway.”

Dom obligingly stretches up to prove that he can - just - reach the pipes on the ceiling that Mitch was trying to thread a rope over for reasons that Jacob’s not sure he wants to know.

Zach rips the tape off his box, and starts pulling something red out. “Grab the end of this, somebody.” Several people leap forwards and start unfolding what seems to be a huge sheet.

“Roly, come and give me a hand?” Dingo phrases it like a question, but Jacob knows that he’s not expected to say anything other than yes.

“So, Ryan’s nesting.” Dingo states the obvious as he leads Jacob down to Dan’s office. “It normally happens in December, I’m sorry that we hadn’t looped you in before today.”

_ But last December you had an attitude problem and none of us wanted to include you, _ he doesn’t say.

“Anyway, we all like to get involved in this bit, because it’s good fun and it reminds him that we’re his team.” Dingo grabs another cardboard box from the shelves at the back of Dan’s office and shoves it at Jacob before picking up a second one for himself.

Jacob’s box has obviously been opened and re-taped many, many times, but there’s nothing to suggest what’s in it. It’s not very heavy.

“This bit?” Jacob still feels like he’s several steps off the play.

“Yeah.” Dingo pulls the office door closed and sets off back to the rest of the guys. “The set up.”

Back in their corridor, the guys have somehow rigged up the red fabric so that it falls down from the air conditioning pipes like a tent. It’s thicker than Jacob thought when Zach got it out of the box, slightly felted like the kind of stuff that santa suits are made of. Andy’s inflating an air bed with a foot pump, and Tommo and Mitch are now arguing about the best way to untangle a string of fairy lights.

“You can’t use them anyway,” Ricky’s telling them. “Those ones plug in, and it’s battery powered only in the nest.”

The tone of his voice suggests that there’s a backstory to that.

“Has anybody checked on Tony?” Dingo rips the tape off the box he’s just put down, and Jacob realises that he hasn’t seen Tony since before the announcement.

“I’ll go.” Val starts to move, and Tommo stops him.

“I’ll go. Best if it’s a D man.”

Val nods, and comes over to investigate Jacob’s box instead. “What have you got?”

Jacob’s box, like the one Dingo is unpacking, is full of Christmas decorations.

“Tony’s keeping Ryan out of the way while we get this started.” Val tells him. “But we have to be careful because if he’s out there too long he might try and nest under the tree.”

The tree is big enough that there’s probably room to nest in amongst the fake gifts underneath it, but it’s out in the public foyer - and also it’s a real tree and Jacob can see that pine needles aren’t ideal for a nesting goalie.

“So… what’s the system?” Jacob looks to Dingo for instruction.

“Tent up first, then we can get the lights up but everything else has to wait for the airbed to go in.”

“Bed’s ready.” Andy tests the mattress by sitting on it and bouncing a couple of times, then puts his hands up for Val to drag him back to his feet. Together they wrestle it into the tent.

“Great work, guys.” Dingo turns back to Jacob. “So, you remember those times when your mum or your girlfriend wouldn’t let you put decorations up because you were doing it wrong and spoiling the theme?” Jacob gets the impression that Dingo’s heard this from both his mum and his wife.

“Yeah.”

Dingo gestures to the tent. “Go for it.”

“Awesome.”

Jacob grabs an armful of fake greenery and starts tucking it in wherever he thinks it will look good. The makeshift tent isn’t very big - the sort of size that gets sold as “two person” on the apparent assumption that neither of those two people has any kind of luggage with them - but it’s cosy, with the fairy lights around the entrance and across the roof, and the airbed making little farting noises as he shuffles from one side of the tent to the other on his knees to arrange a garland along the base of the train that one of the guys has set up along the head of the bed.

It’s not _ classy_, but it is kind of nice.

“Anything with a plug on it still out?” Ricky’s doing a quick sweep of the area, a box under one arm. He picks up a discarded set of lights, and a fake candle arch, dropping them into the box as he goes. “Anything else that needs to be hidden?”

“Incoming!” Mitch calls from the end of the corridor, and Ricky shoves the box at Artie.

“Hide that.”

The panic - or the mild uptick from his usual level of chill, which counts as panic for Ricky - obviously makes sense to Artie, who carries the box away as fast as he can without actually running.

Ryan appears just seconds later. He stops when he sees the tent, lights twinkling on pattern _ Random 3, _ and then his face splits in a grin and he ambles forwards with no concern to whether anybody might be in his way.

The guys scatter, and let him get to his nest. He makes happy chirping noises as he inspects it, which is vaguely familiar from when Jacob’s been around nesting goalies in the past. 

It’s just that normally the nest is more sweaty jerseys than tinsel.

“Okay,” Dan says once it’s clear that Ryan approves of their efforts. “If anybody’s got any bits of soft kit they can manage without for a few days, I’m sure Ryan will appreciate them.”

About half of the guys troop off towards the locker room, and Jacob dithers for a second before he follows.

“What sort of stuff does he like?” He’s mentally digging through his bag and wondering what he’s got that’s not essential for training - which will presumably be back on tomorrow like normal, minus one goalie and whoever gets dragged into the nest - and which will smell enough like hockey for Ryan to want it.

“He’s not fussy,” Tony reassures him. “Even clean stuff is great, especially if he likes your laundry detergent. Most of the guys will lend him their shirts.”

That seems to be the general theme in the room, guys taking off their t-shirts and putting their hoodies back on, with or without some extra layers from their kit bags. Jacob reckons that’s as good an option as any. Ryan’s welcome to his shirt, it’s only a plain one anyway. He can go to the gym in the team shirt that’s currently scrunched in the bottom of his bag instead.

When he gets back to the nest, Ricky is having a rather one-sided argument with Ryan.

“Listen,” he’s saying, in the tone of a man who has said this several times already, “you can have somebody to keep you company in the nest, OR you can have the singing snowman, but you _ cannot have both.” _ Ryan grumbles, clearly torn between his options. He pushes the button on the snowman’s scarf and it starts waggling its head to a tinny rendition of _ Frosty The Snowman. _

“You can keep it, but you’ll be on your own.” Ricky tells him. “Even Artie won’t nest with that thing.”

Ryan huffs, but reluctantly hands over the still singing snowman. Ricky quickly switches it off and passes it to Tommo to get it out of the area.

It’s difficult to pull off _ flouncing off in a strop _while crawling into a Christmas grotto tent, but Ryan somehow manages it. Jacob’s secretly impressed.

The process of offering up items of clothing to the nesting goalie is more familiar. Jacob’s done this before, once, although Whiter had been a bit growly and Jacob had been happy to let him snatch the training jersey out of his hands and get the hell out of there.

Ryan’s smiling as he takes the presented items, shaking them out and inspecting them before folding them and stacking them in a pile just behind him where nobody else will be able to reach it and steal something back.

Not that they would, but he’s nesting. He’s not exactly rational right now.

He waits until everything’s been handed over before he turns his back on them all and starts lining and padding his nest with his team’s tributes.

“Who’s doing first shift?” Dingo’s apparently looking for volunteers, which is another new one on Jacob. In his experience the goalie just grabbed somebody, and if you were the unlucky chosen one you were stuck there for a couple of days.

Luckily Whiter didn’t really like Jacob, so he never got chosen.

“I can.” Artie actually puts his hand up. “I don’t mind.”

“Or I can.” Mitch offers. “Or I’m not working tomorrow so I can trade in.”

“I can do tomorrow.” Tommo adds, and a few of the others start chiming in. The guys who have work or family commitments seem to be disappointed.

“Okay.” Dingo’s making a mental note. “Artie’s in first, then, and Mitch will come in at breakfast time. You okay all night, Artie?”

“I can come back later.” Jacob finds himself saying. “After the gym? If you want?”

“That would be great, Roly, thanks.” Dingo doesn’t seem as surprised as Jacob is that he’s volunteered. “First shift’s always a bit difficult as you’re not expecting it, so Artie hasn’t got any of his stuff with him. If you want to grab a toothbrush and whatever before you come back, it makes it a lot easier.”

In Jacob’s experience - which is all second hand, to be fair - keeping a nesting goalie company is a bit of an ordeal. This sounds like they’re getting ready for a sleepover.

“Liz is here with some stuff for Ryan.” Tony adds, looking at his phone. “If somebody would like to meet her outside?”

Val heads for the entrance.

“She can’t come in.” Ricky explains for Jacob’s benefit. “He gets confused if he sees her.”

Whatever Jacob’s face does must make it look like he’s concerned about this, because Ricky continues.

“She says she likes it. Gives her a chance to sort the house out before Christmas.”

Ryan shuffles out of the tent, wearing several items of his teammates’ clothing on top of his own clothes. He makes a chirruping sound that’s clearly a question, and Dingo responds as if he understands.

“Yeah, Artie’s just coming. That okay?”

Ryan just grins and vanishes back into the tent, twitching the folds of fabric so that they fall together and cover the entrance.

Dingo turns to Artie. “Ready?” 

“Yup.” Artie checks his phone, and turns to Jacob. “Let me know when you’re on the way, yeah?”

“Will do.”

The whole business of setting up the nest and getting Ryan settled took up all of practice, so Jacob gets to the gym around his normal time, although he spends most of the time he’s on the treadmill and the bike wondering what it’s going to be like in the nest.

Whiter was apparently aggressively territorial, and nesting involved a lot of staying exactly where he wanted you to be, but given what Jacob’s seen so far he wouldn’t be surprised if Ryan’s different. Maybe he’s a cuddler.

He doesn’t bother going home after the gym - the showers at the gym are good and the sweats, t-shirt and hoodie he’s wearing will be comfortable to sleep in. 

**Just stopping for snacks and stuff, ** he tells Artie. **Do you and Ryan need anything?**

Artie replies right away.

**Ryan will eat pretty much anything. Can you get some baby wipes? We normally have some for when there’s messy food and I think Mitch is bringing bacon butties in the morning.**

**👍**

**And if you can get me a sandwich that would be awesome. Anything that’s not fish or prawn.**

**Sure. See you in 10-20 mins.**

It’s more like 35 minutes later when Jacob approaches the nest, which feels very different without the rest of the team around. The main lights are out, the corridor just lit by the fairy lights strung around the tent, and there’s music drifting in from where some of the dancers have the ice.

There are two pairs of shoes lined up outside the tent, and it feels weirdly domestic.

“Hello?” He’s hit with the bizarre urge to knock, which isn’t going to work on a fabric tent.

There’s a shuffling sound from inside, and then Artie pops his head out. “Hey.” He crawls out, and Jacob braces for an angry goalie to come barrelling out to reclaim his companion. 

Nothing happens, except Artie reaching for the bags that Jacob’s carrying. “How many sandwiches did you buy?!”

“Food’s in this one.” Jacob hands over one of the bags, and Artie immediately starts digging through it like he hasn’t eaten for weeks.

“Which one’s mine?”

“Whichever.” There wasn’t a great selection left at this time of night, so Jacob just bought several that he liked on the principle that whatever the others picked he’d be happy with what was left. “Do we need to let Ryan pick first?”

“Nah.” Artie rips open the chicken and bacon on malted bread and stuffs half a sandwich into his mouth in one go. “If one of these is for you, you might want to get it out first, too.”

At least, Jacob thinks that’s what he said. It’s hard to be sure when his mouth is so full.

“Won’t he share?”

“Oh, no, he will.” Artie chews and swallows, and his speech gets a lot clearer. “I just meant, if you want one in particular. Otherwise he’ll pick for you.” He inhales the rest of the sandwich, keeping the second one in the packet, and jams his feet into one of the pairs of trainers. The other one must be Ryan’s.

Jacob shrugs. “That’s fine.”

There’s a multipack of Frazzles and a sharing size bag of Maltesers under the sandwiches, along with a couple of bottles of water.

Artie checks the time on his phone, and then gently shakes the folds of fabric that make the door of the tent. “Ryan? I’m going to go home now.”

There’s a rustling sound and then Ryan sticks his head out of the tent. He looks at them both for a minute, tugs at the leg of Artie’s sweats until he crouches down to give him a hug, and then leans out far enough to snag the bag with the food in and vanishes back behind the fabric.

“It’s cool,” Artie says, picking up on Jacob’s nerves. He’s a perceptive kid. “He just wants to hang out. He’s been napping a bit so once you’ve eaten he’ll probably just go to sleep anyway.” He pats his pockets, checking for phone and keys. They’d put his bag in his car earlier. “What’s in the other bag?”

Jacob feels a bit foolish as he slowly gets his impulse purchase out of the second bag.

There’s nothing particularly festive about owls, but this one’s wearing a santa hat and when Jacob spotted it in the store he had to buy it. It’s about a foot tall, and it’s satisfyingly soft.

Artie takes it off him. “Nice.” He pauses, clearly about to give it a hug. “It doesn’t make a noise, does it?”

“No.” Jacob had checked for that in the store. Ricky’s insistence over the musical snowman had stuck with him, and he wasn’t going to buy something that would drive him crazy before morning. “Is it okay?”

He feels a bit stupid, buying gifts for Ryan, but. 

Owl.

Santa hat.

Artie squeezes the owl to his chest for a moment and then hands it back, apparently satisfied with the level of squish. “He’s going to love it.”

And then he’s gone, and Jacob’s standing on his own in a corridor at the ice rink, holding a stuffed owl.

“Ryan?” He carefully lifts the flap of the tent. “Can I come in?”

Ryan looks up from his investigation of the food that Jacob brought and smiles at him. Jacob decides to take that as a yes, and kicks his shoes off before crawling inside.

“This is nice,” he says, still not sure how Ryan’s going to respond. “Cosy.”

It is, too. It’s warm in here from the trapped body heat, and the blankets piled up on the air mattress are inviting. 

Ryan smiles again, looks at the sandwiches, and hands Jacob the ham and cheese.

“Thanks. Um.” He’s not sure what to do with the owl, now, whether to make a big deal out of it, or offer it to Ryan like he would to a small child he doesn’t know very well. For want of other ideas, he carefully sits it next to him on the bed.

Ryan passes it a packet of crisps.

“Uh…”

Ryan rolls his eyes at Jacob - the most normal thing Jacob’s seen out of him since this started - and then tosses the crisps at Jacob instead and pulls the owl over next to him.

Oh. Goalie’s got _ jokes. _

“I hope that’s okay,” Jacob says, a little worried that Ryan’s taking the piss out of the owl and might be a bit offended. “I just saw him and I thought you might like his hat.”

Ryan just grins at him, tucking the owl closer to his side as if he’s making sure that Jacob doesn’t try and take it back, and then turns his attention to the food.

Ryan might have got jokes, but he’s still nesting, and Jacob settles in for the weirdest sleepover ever. 

Late night snacks - check. Watching a movie in bed - check.

(Leaning close to Ryan so that they can watch a Christmas themed romcom on Jacob’s phone is not a scenario he could have expected when he got up this morning. Ryan gets a bit emotional.)

Sharing an airbed with a guy you’re kind of friends with - check. Not being able to fall asleep easily because you’re in a strange place -

Check.

*

Taking the nest apart again is a much quieter affair than setting it up. Tony texts the group chat to tell them that Ryan’s back, and there’s a request from Dingo for anybody who’s free to come down and lend a hand. 

A lot of the guys are at work.

Ryan’s in the showers when Jacob arrives, apparently, which is fair enough when he’s been camped out in the rink for a couple of days, and Tony’s looking a little worse for wear.

“I think this thing’s got a leak.” He kicks the air bed, which does look a bit sad. “Better get a new one in before next time.”

Dingo gets the Argos app open right away. “Better do it before we forget, then.”

Jacob wonders if Ryan’s likely to nest again mid-year, or if it’s an annual thing. And where does Ricky nest? Somehow he can’t see him in the grotto tent, although he does have a not-so-secret love for sequins. 

“Can you…” Jamie hands him a set of lights to untangle and put back in the box. “Ta.”

It’s a lot quieter, lacking the laughter and joking of the set-up, but then nobody really likes taking Christmas decorations down. Especially when it’s still before Christmas.

Dom tugs at the tent fabric, and it slithers down into a puddle on the floor.

“Right.” Dingo puts his phone away and surveys the corridor. Most of the decorations have been put away. Tony’s wrestling the deflated mattress into a bin bag. Dom and Jamie are folding the red sheet. “If I get these,” he nods towards the packed boxes of decorations, “can you take the laundry through?”

“Sure.” The various bits of kit that the guys had given to Ryan have been piled onto one of the blankets, so Jacob gathers the corners and takes the whole bundle through to the locker room to drop in the laundry bin. The blanket is one of those fleecy ones that looks like it’s been washed before, so it’s probably fine to just shove the whole lot into the big hamper.

The locker room is cold, because the heating’s not on in the mornings and it’s not full of twenty sweaty guys. There’s steam on the windows where the shower has been running, and Ryan’s sitting in his stall, mostly dressed, rubbing his hair with a towel. Jacob drops off the laundry and turns back towards the door.

“Thanks for keeping me company.” Ryan hasn’t lifted the towel, so Jacob’s not sure how he knows who is in the room with him. Weird goalie powers, probably.

“You’re welcome.”

Ryan drops the towel onto his knees and starts trying to settle his hair with his fingers. It’s not very successful. He smiles at Jacob, and Jacob smiles back before heading out to see if the guys need him to do anything else.

Neither of them mention the owl sitting on Ryan’s kit bag.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not ruling out the possibility that there could be other stories about other goalies from the 'verse and their nesting habits...


End file.
